


You Have Me

by thegreatandpowerfultoaster



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Alcohol, Am i spelling arishok right?, Angst, Awkward Ferelden Romancing, Awkward Romance, Awkward Sexual Situations, Chess, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cullen Fluff, Desire Demons (Dragon Age), Dont write chapters at 12 on a school night, Dragon Age II Spoilers, Dragon Age Quest: Best Served Cold, Dragon Age Quest: Demands of the Qun, Drunk Cullen Rutherford, Drunk Hawke, F/M, Fereldens in Love, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Kids, Literal Sleeping Together, Mabari, Mages and Templars, Post-All That Remains, Rejection, Right of Annulment, Sleepy Cuddles, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, The Chantry, Wicked Grace, Will I finish this one?, fuck the chantry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-16 09:22:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 16,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11825772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatandpowerfultoaster/pseuds/thegreatandpowerfultoaster
Summary: After her mothers death, Hawke is comforted by the last person she expected.





	1. You Have Me

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if this will be continued but...ehhh oh well. I've been a writer since I was nine, I'm honestly far beyond caring.

It had been days since Hawke had even let Varric see her. Her friends knew not to even enter the Amell Estate, at least not until she invited them in. That's why she ignored the knocking on the back door.

But it went on and on and Marian had the beginnings of a headache. Her tears would no longer come. She'd pulled herself out of bed and silently swept through the halls until she reached the door. 

"What?" She growled loudly as she opened the door, a flame enveloping her hand. She fully intended to use that hand to punch out all her pent up anger. When she caught a glimpse of templar armor, she did not bother to extinguish it. What did that matter now? 

It did not at all help matters to see that it was a very disheveled Knight-Captain Cullen. At her door. Now. However he looked as if he was regretting it now. "I-I came to s-see if...To offer m-my condolences... I c-can go, if now is not a-a good time, Serah Hawke."

It would never be a good time to invite a Templar into her home. However she was feeling careless. At least if she was to be dragged to the Gallows, she could find a window to jump out of. "Ah. Condolences. More of those. Well, come in then, because that is what you want, isn't it?"

Her friends would tell her that she should speak to someone. Whether they would approve of Cullen as 'someone' would be arguable.

Still stammering he came in and sat in the parlor area. She had no problems telling him that she had no patience for such things today and she was feeling rather suicidal. Her father, sister and now mother were dead, and her brother had become a Templar.

"I-I had heard what happened. I'm sorry, really that's awful," Cullen said quietly. "No one deserves that."

She had taken to looking anywhere but at him. It had been weeks, perhaps since she had spoken with or seen anybody. "Even mages?" Hawke shot back.

His eyes widened slightly. "No, I do not believe so."

"Could've fooled me," she muttered, mostly to herself. 

It was silent and awkward once again. Cullen had his hands folded in his lap, but his legs seemed restless. Hawke played with a price of a velvety curtain. Suddenly Cullen stood. "I-I will go. Y-you wish to be alone, that is alright."

"No!" Quicker than she had in weeks she moved and grabbed his hand. She didn't really want to be left alone again, she was so tired of being alone...and here he was, seemingly meaning to comfort her. No motives that she could figure, he had no other reason to be here. They had never been friends. "Cullen, won't you stay?"

His amber eyes filled with confusion. Slowly he sat back down. "Of...of course. I-Why?"

She wasn't even sure. "I don't know. Not really. But... I don't really have anyone anymore." That wasn't really true. It was clear that her friends cared for her, and she cared for them, but everyone she had been very close to had died. Horribly. "Unless you need to go, of course. Best not keep Meredith waiting." That unfortunately did nothing to quell her desperate sound. All at once, the tears were back. "Maker, this will never end, will it?" 

And then Cullen's arms were around her, and she was crying onto the thick steel chestplate of his armor and it was all so absurd. "It will end," he whispered. "I promise you that it will all end. And you have your friends and...M-Marian, you have me, alright? I will let nothing bad happen to you again. Do you understand?" 

Hiccuping, she nodded. "Good," his voice had dropped nearly an octave. "I will not leave your side until you order me to, and Meredith may say what she wants to. May I sit again?"


	2. Things Lost

She was tired, having not remembered when the last time she slept, really slept was. Now sitting next to a Templar, a Knight-Captain, lying her head on his shoulder (he had, of course taken off his armor and ever so carefully set it by the door) and wondering what it would be like to fall asleep right now, right here. Would she still see Quentin in her dreams? Would she still she her mother?

"Why did you come here? Surely it was not simply to offer condolences."

He looked almost as tired as she felt. Still he softly smiled at her. "I am capable of kindness, even to mages."

"So we have established." She still wonder what they had established, exactly. She did not mind the contact.

Cullen thought long an hard. "I will be honest, it was not something I was sure about at first. I thought that showing you kindness would do me no good in the long run. Not when Meredith seems so intent on using you."

Even he believed she was a bit crazy. Perhaps she had truly not judged him correctly. "Perhaps I see a bit of myself in you," he continued. "But you are much braver than I am. I ran away from every hardship I had, and yet you remain in Kirkwall."

Oh, but he knew so little. She had run. From Bethany's death and Fathers. From the Blight. The troubles had followed her to Kirkwall. She softly pointed this out, failing to keep the sharp edge from her voice and failing. He chuckled. "But you have gotten through it all."

"Barely, some days," she whispered and her breath became heavy again. She only wished her mother was here. He embraced her again. Suddenly her face flushed and she looked up at him. "We will be in so much trouble of this-any of this-gets out."

"And why should it? Why does anyone need to know what we talk about in our off time?"

A small laugh bubbled up into her throat, but still her smile quivered. "They don't. You are exactly right. Besides that, I don't believe that anyone would believe me if I told them. And off time? I was certain that you didn't get any."

"Sometimes," he smiles. "But usually I just spend time in my quarters, reading or playing chess."

Her face lit up. "You like chess? Father taught Carver, Bethany and I to play... Perhaps we could..I..oh. We left it in Ferelden. With the damn Darkspawn." Gradually it darkened. "We couldn't bring much. In fact, the only thing I grabbed at all was Ser Woofington the Eighth."

Hesitantly Cullen placed a hand on her shoulder. "You are c-certainly welcome to come over s-sometime and use mine. Is Ser Woofington a...dog?"

Marian could see that his interest was peaked. "A Mabari," she said proudly. That was one way to flaunt her Fererlden upbringing. "I named him. Ser Woofington Hawke the Eighth, Esquire. That was...quite some time ago. I was a foolish child. He is staying with Merrill for now."

He looked very seriously at her. "It is a very elegant name. Fit for a dog of regal heritage, don't you think?"

"I still quite like it," Hawks admitted. "I...well, you don't have to stay. I am feeling much better now. Much better than I have in...weeks. I think I'd like to try to take a nap."

All the more reason for him to stay, for he was the one making her feel this. But while she knew Cullen would not plead to stat, she prayed that he would anyways. He did not, simply lifted her hand to his lips and drew away. "Goodbye then, Marian. I hope y-you sleep well o-of course and I hope I-I will see you again soon."

She did not rise from her seat in the parlor to show him out, and when the door closed behind him she softly sobbed once more. Marian lay her head near where he had sat, and if she focused enough she could almost feel him beside her again.

It was hopeless. She missed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't know how long this is going to be so if you WOULD like to see more, do tell. Criticism is also appreciated.


	3. A Dull Ache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a beta reader so please parson any spelling mistakes! It just occurred to me that there's probably a lot!

It was another long week before she dressed warmly and dragged herself to the Hanged Man. "Hawke!" Someone called excitedly. She had missed that voice. She had missed those people and their company.

"How you holding up, Hawke?" Varric asked her. 

She shrugged a bit and sat down at the only empty place on the table. "Better. About as good as I can be. Give me something to do, and I'll be even better."

Varric nodded and Anders launched into exactly how she could help at the clinic if she wanted, Aveline noted a few bounties that had been up for a while, and Isabela had other ideas entirely. She was willing to do it all. It would help to not think for a while. She told Anders she would help him first. She was not very skilled in creation magic, but she knew enough. Enough to break the bones was enough to set them again, right?

It was late evening when she got home, and between helping and Bounty hunting, she was exhausted. Merrill had brought back Woofington earlier, or so she had been informed. 

Marian was so tired, she hadn't even noticed the man on her couch, petting her dog. She was about halfway up the stairs when her mind suddenly registered it.

She peeked her head through. It was Cullen. He looked up to see her like that. "Hawke! M-Marian. I apologize. Serah Bodhan told me it would be alright to wait for you here."

She truly had not expected him to come by again. "Don't apologize. Its good to see you again, but it is awfully late, isn't it?"

Had she been feeling any bolder she might've invited him to stay for the night. The thought crossed her mind, but he was already speaking again by the time she dismissed it, apologizing for being over so late. Maker, did he have to apologize for everything? He was not in the wrong. She did want to start seeing him more often, to develop...whatever this was.

She was certain that her feeling stemmed from more than just loneliness and grief. He listened when she spoke. He understood how things had been in Ferelden. 

"Stay, its no trouble at all. It has simply been a long day," she hushed him, sitting down between him and Woofsley, and giving the latter a pat on the head. Woofsley moved his head to her lap, and finally things were almost as they should be. 

Still her heart ached for her lost family, but it was almost a dull ache compared to what it had been. The ache would not go away, she had decided. She would not let it, for if it did, she would forget them. "How has your day been, Cullen?"

He frowned. "We had a Harrowing, earlier. The boy was so young and I was afraid that... But it went well, I suppose. He is alright. I just don't think that was right. The Harrowing is a thing of necessity, of course but Meridith should not be able to have one so young Harrowed, ready or not."

Marian could see him thinking, practically. "Why not do away with it all together? Bethany and I were never Harrowed, and I can promise you I've never been possessed or done blood magic."

"You are...D-Different than any other mage I've seen," he says, as though that justifies the thing. Justifies the Chantry sending mages into the fade, waiting to see if they'll be possessed. And if so-well, its not like their life meant a thing anyways.

"How am I different?" She demanded. "If anything, shouldn't I be far more susceptible to the call of demons?"

"Its not-"

"Everyone can be possessed, Cullen. You really think anything the Circles taught will make it any harder?"

He met her gaze. "Yes. I do. Why would I have joined the order if I believed the circles didn't help?" Hawks had thought, truly and sincerely thought that he wanted to help. He had seen her at one of her most vulnerable moments and vowed to be by her side, to protect her. What a fool she was for thinking a Templar would be as good as his word.

"Do you believe that I would be better off in a circle?" Marian asked coolly. He was far too quick to shake his head. "Perhaps it is too late for a social call?" He nodded, again far too quickly. "Then goodnight, Ser Rutherford."

"Goodnight, Serrah Hawke."

He was halfway to the door and she could herself calling to him. "You will come back soon, won't you?"

He turned back to face her, looking something between hurt and amused. "If you wish it, Hawke."


	4. Demons Inside Us

She next saw him in the Fade. It was his dream, not hers. There was a room, all stone and war glow from a fire she couldn't see. He was in bed, a small figure wrapped around him, curled to his chest.

It was not her. This stung,

"Mmm, love," the figure murmured. "The sun is up now. Shall I wake the children?" Sleepily Cullen nodded. The woman turned away and she could see bright blue eyes and black hair framing a face much like her own, much like her mothers. 

"Wait," His voice was husky, presumably from just 'awaking'. A shiver ran down her spine and try ad she might it was not something she could ignore."You're not her."

The woman's eyes flashes purple. "You are far smarter than you look. Ah, well. I promise I'll do better next time."

He stood up. She could not move, freezing as she realized it was a demon. A desire demon. Who was this woman that demons would tempt him with? "You will not take me. Your tricks stopped working long ago."

And suddenly she saw the demon in its full form. It did not scare her, she had dealt with them before. What scared her was letting herself be seen, letting Cullen know she had been watching. "But is this not what you wanted?" Questioned the Demon, licking its lips seductively. "You could have it all, now. Just give me one last try..."

"Never," he growled. "Begone! I do not wish to see you anymore, beast." 

He was strong. He could handle it, couldn't he? But he looked weary, the sort of weary she knew was from never getting enough rest, when even your dreams would not let you fall asleep. She knew it all too well. She would step in if he could not face it all on his own.

Marian had not been prepared for the desire demon to take her face. "I understand now," it purred. "This is what you want. Ever since you have met, it has been her. But she does not know about your infuriation with her cousin?"

So that was who the woman was. It made sense, being that they had both been in the Ferelden circle. Solona Amell was her cousin, now the hero of Ferelden. Was he being nice to her simply because she looked like Solona? Because they were blood?!

"Leave me," he threatened. "You will plague me no longer, Demon." 

It laughed and she felt a strong burning in her throat. This would never work, would it? They were too different. There was no point in hiding now. Hawks stepped forward quickly, her fist connecting with the desire demons face. It might've been the fade, but she had a good enough grasp on reality through her sleep that it worked. 

As its head flung back and snapped forward, it laughed again, deeply, richly. Cullen stared at her as if she were insane. She was, undoubtedly. She'd punched a demon in the face, and it wasn't even the first time. 

But Maker, it felt good. *Leave!" She yelled. "You have no power here!" That wasn't true. She could feel its pull. If only she went with it, she could have anything she desired. 

With a wide smirk it disappeared. "You have not gotten rid of us. We will be back."

Cullen lookers at her for a long time. The silence was thick and painful and she just wanted to move, but she couldn't. What would he say now, after what had happened and after what she had seen. At lest her head felt clearer now, free of the demons taint. "Your really here, aren't you? B-because mages can travel the fade..."

She bowed her head. "Yes. I didn't mean to, but you...looked in trouble."

"I could've handled it," he grumbled, nervously running a hand through his curly hair. "But...nevertheless, thank you, I suppose."

At least he had the grace to thank her. At least Hawke had the sense to accept it. "Do they find you often?"

"Nearly every night," he replied. "How...how much did you see?" Was it because he didn't want her to see him vulnerable? Was it because of Solona Amell? There were so many possibilities running through her head, but she opted to just be perfectly honest. She told him that she had seen all of it. "It isn't...w-what you think it is, Hawke. M-maybe I can explain?"

She shook her head. "Not here. Not now."

"Then tomorrow, if you can. Please."

Marian nodded and faded away, back to her own little corner of the fade, where nothing was right anymore. She needed him. He was all she had.


	5. What Happened in The Hold (Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case its not obvious I've never played DAII *cough* so bear with me as I make stuff up and screw with the layouts of things.

With some mildly violent threatening of templars she had found where Cullen was living. A small quarters near the Gallows. He'd be in a lovely spot, were things all to suddenly go to shit. She pitied him for that.

Still, was a place away from all of the other Templars, so she could understand of having some sort of allure. From the outside she could see it had many windows. Far more than were practical for a man who could be attacked at any moment. Didn't he worry about such things?

Three sharp knocks on the door and it swung open on its own. "Cullen?" She called. The place was lit entirely with natural light, appearing far more open than it was in reality. She heard his voice from another room, replying with something she didn't quite catch and then thundering through the room to the open doorway, where she still stood awkwardly. 

"Come in. So it was you, and not another demon."

"You doubted it?" She asked. He didn't confirm or deny it, so she continued to question. "That was my cousin, Solona Amell, was it not? I am usually not mistaken." 

He offered a smirk to the floor beneath him and rubbed his neck anxiously again. "It was. We both served in Kinloch Hold, for a time." He made it sound as if she had had a choice. "I...was young and I though that I loved her."

Thought? Then why was he tormented with the sight of her still? She had been young and foolish once too, when it came to love but that had been a long time ago. Before any of this. "Ah, yes. What is your fascination with me, then?"

Cullen blushed. "I-It is not a fascination, Hawke I...It has nothing to do with her, I promise you. That was long before the Blight and it was only an infatuation."

What in Thedas was this, then? If it wasn't a fascination for him, it certainly was for her. He was somehow...good. Something people in Kirkwall were not, and the fact remained that his attention had been turned to her. "Then why did the demon show you her?"

"I..." He sighed. "I suppose y-you should know that it is not my choice to be here-but anywhere is better than being stationed in Ferelden. Come out of the doorway, Hawke, and sit down."

She closed the door behind her, not bothering to be gentle, and the place she chose to sit was on the top of his tiny dining table. Cullen looked at her, and then at the ground a few times, and then sighed, slumping down into a chair next to her. "I was the only one left."

"Only one left? What on earth are you even saying?" 

Somehow she knew what he was going to say before he said it. Still a cold shiver ran down her spine when he spoke the words out loud. "Blood Magic," he said coldly. "They summoned demons and used blood magic and there was nothing any of us could do. You haven't felt it, what it can do. They can make you think...feel...they used her to try and harm me. I could've hurt her, when she really came back. T-They could have made me."

Marian winced. She had seen too much blood magic. Seen to many people possessed by demons over stupid deals for unobtainable power. It was how her own mother had died. He was hurt so by these things, with no end to the pain in sight. She could understand that, at least.

Painfully slowly she reached up and grabbed his hand, stating firmly. "I am sorry for doubting you. I am sorry for how they hurt you, as I see why you don't trust us. You promised to be there for me. I will do the same for you. If we must suffer, then we will suffer together."

His gaze softened. "I-I knew you were different. N-not that its a bad thing..." He drew closer, leaning down so that their for heads almost touched. She still grasped his hand tightly and the contact sent pleasant shocks down her spine to her belly.

And then, gently he pressed his soft lips to her chapped ones, and any sensation before surged into that kiss. They both drew away quickly, Cullen stuttering and blushing and apologize again. Marian, her eyes wide as she tried to understand it, any of it. Why? 

She had loved it, and wanted to feel it again. Cullen looked more uncertain, however.

"I-I'm not sure that was a good idea."


	6. What Happened in The Hold (Part Two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - I switched to Cullen's POV so we could see his side of things through all that mess.

He had to be reasonable. He didn't know Hawke was coming. He didn't know that it had been her wandering the fade that night, but her presence had felt so different than a demons.

He wondered briefly if she realized who the the woman in his dream was, and if she was angry that once he had wanted her cousin. She shouldn't be, the thing had ended long ago and Solona had never shown interest in being any more than friends.

Despite the doubts that were pulling at him, he hurriedly straightened up his small place. It was something he had not had time to do for years, perhaps. At least not properly. But he had been working so constantly lately that the Knight-Commander had ordered him to take a few days off. He was reluctant at first but then he had somehow ended up in front of the Smell mansion and now he was quite glad he had another day.

Hawke was so different than any mage he had ever met, he supposed. She was resourceful and when you got past her sharp exterior, sweet. 

Her blue eyes drew him in, as they shined brightly. It was far more complicated than how he felt, though. Who could say if she shared this strange enchantment? Although, she kept coming back, so she did not detest him at least.

He had only just sat down when he heard the knock on the door. He heard it swung open and a voice called to him. "Cullen?"

She had come! "Coming!" He responded, standing up too quickly for his own good and falling over a tunic he had forgotten was there. 

The object of his affections leaned in the doorway casually, the sunlight coming through all around her. He focused and tried not to stammer again, but she was again looking at him as if she were in very deep thought, and that ruined it all.

"Come in. So it was you, and not another demon."

She nodded slightly but remained in the doorway. "You doubted it?"

Of course he had. After so many years of torture, he had a bit of a hard time decoding sometimes. She narrowed her eyes and continued. "That was my cousin, Solona Amell, was it not? I am usually not mistaken."

Remembering Solona made him smile. She had been a good friend, despite everything that had happened. "It was. We both served in Kinloch Hold, for a time. I...was young and I though that I loved her."

Perhaps he had but the feeling had never been mutual and she had always been far from his grasp. So he loved her as a friend should, and did what Templar's were supposed to. He protected her.

"Ah, yes. What is your fascination with me, then?" Hawke appeared skeptical, he assumed about his feelings-former-towards Solona. 

He felt his entire body suddenly heat up, because it was so much beyond fascination. "I-It is not a fascination, Hawke I...It has nothing to do with her, I promise you. That was long before the Blight and it was only an infatuation." She truly had no idea.

"Then why did the demon show you her?" She demanded. 

He sighed. He had been hoping to avoid this, but she deserved to know ad much as anyone. "I suppose y-you should know that it is not my choice to be here-but anywhere is better than being stationed in Ferelden. Come out of the doorway, Hawke, and sit down."

She chose a spot on top of his table, and he sat down in a chair facing her, as to see her face when she was told these things. What mages has come to him. "I was the only one left," he sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Only one left? What on earth are you even saying?"

It had been difficult to choke out the words. "Blood Magic. They summoned demons and used blood magic and there was nothing any of us could do." The beginnings of teats stung his eyes. "You haven't felt it, what it can do. They can make you think...feel...they used her to try and harm me. I could've hurt her, when she really came back. T-They could have made me."

There we no way to tell someone these things, at least no good way, but Hawke seemed to understand the weight of it all.

He watched with interest as she picked up his hand in her own smaller one, looking sadly at him and giving his hand a small but reassuring squeeze. "I am sorry for doubting you. I am sorry for how they hurt you, as I see why you don't trust us. You promised to be there for me. I will do the same for you. If we must suffer, then we will suffer together."

He had been right about her. Maker, he cared for this woman and her kind heart. "I-I knew you were different. N-not that its a bad thing..." No, it was such a good thing, for him and for her and suddenly he became very impulsive and leaned down and their lips met, slowly and unsurely.

The kiss was explosive and sweet, filled with shared pain and caring for one another. And it ended just as quickly as it began.

She looked so starstruck and happy and like she was thinking again. It had felt so nice...but... It could not happen again, and this was something he knew. He could hurt her or she could be taken away and...

He would not be the source of more pain for her. No, this had to end now.

"I-I'm not sure that was a good idea."


	7. And I Think You're Mistaken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Hawkes POV now! Thanks for reading along here!

"W-What?" Her voiced wavered. "You kiss me and then its just, 'I don't think that's a good idea'?"

He was quite obviously panicking. "N-no, Hawke I-I didn't mean it like that. I-I only meant..."

Her head had began to hurt, most likely from squeezing her eyes shut, trying to comprehend all of this. How could he do that, and then refuse her? Why did everyone leave? 

Softly he looked at her, frowning. "Y-You are a Mage, and I a Templar. The Chantry forbids such things-" 

Why, for once could they not just be Marian and Cullen. Not a mage and a templar. Why did he have to be so damn loyal to the Order? "I don't give a shit about what the Chantry forbids or doesn't forbid, if you haven't figured that out yet." Growing up how she did had ruined that for her.

"But I do," he pleaded. "Please, just try and understand that I-I..." His eyes shot to the ground again and he turned a bright red. "I truly do want this as much as you do. But I have a life here, a duty."

A life? Is that what he called it? Although his loyalty was admirable, she supposed. "How do you know how much I need you by my side, Cullen?"

He looked back up at her, strained. "Because I need it as well, Hawke. But I cannot l-leave. Do y-you not know that? This i-is..." He struggled to find the next word. "Kirkwall i-is where I am needed. C-Can you understand that?"

While her first instinct was to say no, she did not have anything here to stay for, nobody here needed her, Marian knew that it was incorrect.

She was not needed, per-say, but she needed Kirkwall, despite it being a shitty place where she was far more likely to be thrown in the circle then in, say Ferelden. The Blight was long over. She was rich. She could go back, it wasn't like she had family here anymore. Gamlen was not reason at all to stay.

She wanted to stay here for her friends, and for him. Hawke sighed in defeat. "If you don't want...that, then fine. But I still need you. Please." It came out as more of a plea than she had meant. "Whatever you must do, do not cease being a friend."

But there was so much more they could've had. He nodded. "Alright. W-would you still like to play chess?" Anything to get her mind off of all of this. 

He was better than she had expected. The first time he obviously let her win, but every time after that it had been a challenge. He won more than lost, but it did put r focus elsewhere. "Did you ever play with Solona?"

There had been almost no conversation, yet the silence had become comfortable enough. He didn't lookup from moving his piece. "Often," said Cullen. "Some days there was little else to do. She could beat anyone in the Circle. Well, except First Enchanter Irving."

"We Amells are quite competitive bunch," she joked. He smiled, muttering something to say that he knew. "So," she said after another minute. "Why haven't you been working lately?"

He obviously had not been expecting that question. "I was ordered to take several days of. F-For overworking myself, or something." She did remember noting the dark circles under his eyes when he had come the first morning. They were only slightly better now, battling a demon why you slept was not an especially effective way to rest up.

"I think that's probably good for you. You looked tired. You still do, but you look better."

"I-I could use a-a nap," he joked. "B-But truly, I don't l-like being as away for so long, I get out if practice."

Marian thought for a moment before moving a pawn and responding. "Well, there's usually plenty to do in my little corner of things. How many days?"

When Cullen responded he sounded relieved. "Just one more, and then I can get back to work. Thank you for the offer, I do get restless. Besides , sitting here all day is doing nothing good for me."

Her mouth responded before her brain could consider it. "I think its Wicked Grace night, later. Maybe you could come down to the Hanged Man."

"I'd like that," he smiled. "Do yo have anything going on today."

Yes, yes. To do other things with pother people and keep the impossible man from her thoughts. "Actually, Isabela and Varric and I were going to get some bounties turned in and such. You will still come wont you?" 

Why was she still pleading when he had explicitly stated his disinterest in her? "Yes," he responded and again her heart kept to her throat.


	8. Interlude: Varric and Isabela

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter to make up for me not writing as much! Yay!

"I just don't understand it," she said to Varric. "How does this place amass so much crime? What makes shitty people want to live in this city?"

Varric had laughed lightheartedly. "I dunno, you tell me, Hawke."

"Ha ha." She hadn't laughed, mostly because her mind was places other than the dark tunnels of...Darktown. Who the hell had named all of it, anyways? She was feeling bitter. 

At her other side, Isabela clicked her tongue. "Your brooding, dear thing. Been spending too much time around Fenris again, or is it something else this time?'

She weighed her options as the rounded the corner to find a group of thugs waiting for them. They would all find out sooner or later, and when they did she would either be laughed at or lectured. "It's Knight-Commander Cullen," she shouted over a fireball. Perhaps shouting her affections was not the best idea. 

"Oh..." Isabela purred. "Has he gotten you all hot and bothered?"

Although the answer was yes, maybe, she shook her head quickly. "No! I- he came by the mansion, when I was..."

"Grieving?" Chimed in Varric helpfully as he dispersed the last of the thugs and retrieved as many of Bianca"s bolts as he could.

Marian nodded once. "Grieving."

"This sounds like its going to get good," Isabela grinned.

"Nope," she replied. "Not really. " she told them all about his visit and how she had gone to visit him this morning, excluding the bit where he told her about why he was stationed in Kirkwall. That would be kept between them, If that's what he wanted. 

She hadn't been expecting them to act like mother hens, that's for certain. "No, this is good," said Isabela thoughtfully."I haven't had a really good chance to be a matchmaker in years!" That was what she thought of this? Really. "We'll make sure you're irresistible!" Marian did not like this idea, or any of its implications for that matter. 

"Okay," replied Varric. "But we don't tell Blondie or Broody. Neither of them would take this well."

But Anders and Fenris were her friends as much as the rest of them, and wasn't it her decision in the end? Maybe neither of them would take it as hard as Vaeric thought. "But I invited him to Wicked Grace night! How are they not supposed to find out?! What to you expect me to do, tell them he just showed up?"

It probably should've been obvious. "You leave it to me. Writer, remember?" She remembered. Whether he would actually come up with a good lie or go with something that fit in a dwarf's trashy romance novel was still a hundred percent up for debate. 

Still it was the best option given, if they had to keep it a secret. And hopefully, Cullen had no idea that Merrill was a blood mage. That wouldn't go over well, she figured. 

Another day, another Darktown gang killed, another dramatic situation resolved. Well, in theory, anyways.

Isabela wasn't going to stop with the lewd comments, was she?


	9. Everyone Else Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at midnight and I don't have a beta reader so if none of this makes sense I'm sorry.

Had Marian known what a disaster that night would turn into she might've invited Cullen over for a debate on mage rights. It would've gone better. Far, far better.

Of course, like most horrible events, it started out alright. Just Varric, Isabela, Merrill and Aveline. Everyone there got along alright, although she was certain that sweet Merrill probably would somehow let it slip that she was a blood mage, and Isabela would probably make some jab at the Templar's swords, and Cullen would start stammering again or worse! But nothing happened until she was more than a bit tipsy and had lost a good portion of her pocket money.

"And then," Varric wasn't at all as drunk as everyone else. Cullen came in second, looking only a little buzzed, at most. "She shoves the puppies out of the way, and stabs the dragon like eight times-"

What story is he telling now? Its about her, she's certain. "Nine." She interrupts. "Nine times." Maybe he's more drunk than she'd thought, trying to impress him with stories of her saving puppies from dragons. He is Ferelden, though. Maybe it will do her some good. Maybe it will make him want to kiss her again. Yes, do kiss the Savior of the puppies. She needs kissing.

"I fold!" Announced Isabela loudly, too loudly for indoors. 

She's forgotten how to play at this point. Merrill is sound asleep in the corner, Varric hasn't been paying attention for at least three hands, Aveline refuses to play, and Cullen quit about the same time Varric did. "I...uhh. Raise?"

Isabela nodded. "M'sure you do, love. Time to go home?" Maybe it is. She's sure she has thins to do...soon. Hawke-y things. Not like catching worms and building nests like everyone thinks, though. Like... Clearing the city of crime and convincing a certain blond Templar that she is worth looking at as more of a friend. 

Cullen had been looking at her this whole time. "I can take you home, if you'd like." 

She doesn't respond, and not because she doesn't have a lengthy chance. No, she gets a chance, but then Anders walks in. "Oh, good!" Its as if he hasn't seen Cullen. He's beaming at her. "I was hoping you'd still be here! I've come up with a genius new bit for my manifesto, would you look at it, before I present it to-"

He's going to say the Mage Underground, even her half dead brain knows that much, so she hits him. "Shit! What's that for...oh. Maker, what's he doing here?" His gaze is filled with an absolute disgust that she hasn't seen on him in a while.

"Hello, Anders," says Cullen, rather calmly to the man who hates him more than he hates the spirit of Vengeance living inside of him. "How do you do?"

She snorts out loud at that, waking Merrill in the process. "Oh! I just had the most fascinating conversation with-" She yells loudly to cover up Merrill telling everyone she had a conversation with a demon. Suddenly Hawke is questioning her choice in friends. 

"Why is he here, Hawke?"

Anders's is asking and she isn't quite sure what to say. Wasn't Varric supposed to handle this part or something? Stupid Dwarf.

A voice comes out of nowhere. "Yes, Hawke. Why is there the man here who could take out at least three of you?" How long has Fenris been sitting there, his markings glowing slightly? He's not going to hurt anyone, is he? She hopes not, she'd hate to have to hurt any of them.

And is it her imagination or are Ander's eyes really glowing slightly? He knows he can-probably-see that, right? And then she makes the mistake of shouting. "Shut it, all of you. You too Justice!" His eyes narrow but definitely snap back to normal. Hawke doesn't even care to look at Cullen. She can deal with that, later, when her fucking eyelids aren't so heavy and her head isn't spinning so much. 

"He's here because I want him here. Does anyone have a problem with that?!" Fenris' markings glow even more, Anders politely raises his hand, and while Merrill sits innocently enough, her fear for the Templar is clear enough. "I'm a mage, I'm the leader, and I want him here. Fuck off."

And then she grabbed Cullen by his gauntlet and began to drag him to the door. She made a point to shove herself into Fenris, because she was not nearly sober enough to care about the consequences. She was never sober enough, lately. He growled and had his hand dangerously close to her throat. She snarled back.

Halfway to the door she turned back to the table where they sat. "I'll see you screw ups tomorrow, same time as usual."

Merrill waved. "Goodbye, Hawke! See you in the morning! Goodbye, Cullen! Pleasure to meet you!"


	10. I'll Walk With You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignore weird tense changes. Maybe I'll keep switching POVs? Is that a good idea? Anyway, here's 'Cullen'

She hadn't had it all set in, even by the time they were walking through Hightown. She was talking, he wasn't. "And did you see that? I was like...go away, Anders your possessed and late!"

He refrained from telling her that was not at all what had happened. But she seemed so proud, and she had stuck up for him but... There were so many things he needed to ask her. Perhaps when she was less...uninhibited.

Anders, he had not seen in a very long time, even before the possession of Uldred. But had it been a trick of the light, or had he truly seen what he thought he had? But something within him wasn't sitting right. Anders was...possessed? With Justice, as Hawke had said? Justice wasn't a demon, but a spirit. He knew that much. There were spirits of Compassion and Faith and Love but within a human-or a mage, they became corrupted. They became demons. 

And Merrill...there was something there that Hawks did not want him to know, but why? She was obviously a mage, her staff didn't even appear to be a stave. There was something else, though he was sure. "Yes, Hawke I saw."

He didn't feel so nervous around her when she was out if sorts like this. Anything he said would be forgotten by the time the sun rose. "Hawke?"

"Hmm?" She sounded lost in thought, as she often did, but now it was less confined. 

"Why did you stick up for me? You didn't have to do that."

She blinked at him a few times, her eyelashes fluttering in front of her dilated blue eyes. Her checks were flushed slightly, and although he had been certain earlier that it would be better for both of them if he didn't, he wanted to kiss her again. It would not be right, though. Not after he had rejected her, and definitely not while she was like this. "Of course I did! They deserved it! You weren't doing any of them harm, they didn't need to be like that. Also, I did it because I like you Cullen."

He looked at her and she repeated it loudly, as if he hadn't heard the first time. "I like you, Cullen."

Surely Hawke meant for this to happen, for his cheeks to heat up again. "Y-yes. I've... We've e-established that, I believe."

She frowned slightly for a moment. What was she thinking about now? Hopefully it was only wandering thoughts, and he had not caused it. She tripped over a small rock, and grabbed him. Only barely, he did not fall and managed to catch her as well. When they reached the Amell Estate, he opened the door for her, and using one hand, she lit all the fires in the room, lighting the way back to her room. "Mother will be so mad at me!" She giggles and suddenly the laughing stops. He reaches out for her hand, and she let's him. "O-Oh Andraste's ass, I'd forgotten. H-how could I have forgotten?"

Gently he holds her hand while she regains herself. "I'd like to go to bed." Hawke sighs. "Goodnight, Cullen. T-Thank you."

He bows deeply to her, "No, thank y-you. I had a...surprisingly wonderful day, despite it all."

He watches as she slowly makes her way up three stairs, before falling back. "Damn it! Shit! Fuck these fucking stairs and the person who built them!"

He wonders if she notices she's almost crying. He lets her lean on him up the stairs, and almost laughs as he replays the night in his mind. "You're quite the drunk, Hawke."

"Shut the fuck up, Cullen. Please."


	11. [Un]intended Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Povs switch every chapter now unless stated otherwise. Thanks for reading along!

Her head hurt. Everything else hurts too, but it usually hurt. Today it was mostly her head. Maybe she had too much to drink. Way too much, ugh. What even happened, most of last night? At least she ended up in her own bed, and at least she is alone. Well, except for Woofsley, but he's usually there too.

Faintly she remembered Cullen walking her home, and falling down the stairs. There was...a lot of yelling, but who yelled at who? Did she yell at somebody? 

She groaned, but got up, asking Bodhan if Cullen he'd brought her home last night. "Indeed he did," said the dwarf, as usual far too cheery. "Seemed to think you might get back up and fall over through. He didn't stay for long."

Mumbling in reply, she hobbled down to the Hanged Man. Not surprisingly, Varric was already there, sipping water and writing something that didn't appear at all interesting to her. "And she returns!" He laughed. "Man, do you remember half the things you said last night? It was pretty bad."

He frowned when she said she didn't remember an instant of it. "That bad?"

"All I'm saying is you should probably explain and apologize to Blondie and broody before we end up one job without a healer or an elf with anger issues. Oh, and speaking of jobs, the Viscount wanted to see you as soon as it was possible."

Viscount Marlowe Dunmar was not her favorite person. She had put up with him mainly for her own gain. In fact, she abhorred Kirkwall's politics. But, she big couldn't very well refuse to see him. So she just sighed and agreed to make up for whatever it was that she had done or said to her friends before doing so. "It waited for a week," Varric said. "It can wait for another hour."

We hadn't said a word as she'd entered Anders' clinic and instead got to work. That would likely help the most, he was a man of actions rather than hollow words, and she had known this since the had met.

He didn't even notice her, as she was silently grinding up elfroot, and he was tending to a patient. When he finally had to get up to get a potion, he finally noticed her. "What in Thedas are you doing?"

"Worshiping the Maker," she replied dryly, immediately wishing she could take it back. She was supposed to be making amends, not making things worse. "Sorry. I was trying to be helpful."

Anders looked her straight in the eye. "Its not really going to matter if tomorrow we're both in the Gallows. Or today, I'm not picky." 

So he was upset about Cullen being at their Wicked Grace game? "I know, and I apologize. He's not like that, though. You have to believe me."

He didn't look like he wanted to. He was stubborn, if nothing else. Had he been this way before he had let Justice into him? Perhaps they would've seen more eye to eye then. "He is a Templar, Hawke. They are all the same. They have one goal, and that is to imprison us."

There was no way to make him see the way she did, was there? She wouldn't betray Cullen's trust in telling him, but even if she did, she knew what Anders would say. "That's one mage in thousands, Marian they are not all bad! He has let one corrupt his view of all of us."

And perhaps he would be right. 

But she knew him, knew both of them and she understood why.

"Please, give him a chance. He won't send us to the Gallows, I promise you." She could promise no such thing. 

Anders stepped closer to her, ensuring that no none else could listen in. "You practically told him, Marian. If he didn't know before, he knows now."

She had? This was worse than she had thought. Would Cullen take action, knowing that Anders was possessed? 

"Please," she pleaded again. "I can fix this, I know I can. Just...let me tell you on the way to the Viscount's."

She had began counting her breaths, until he finally replied. 

"Let me get my coat."


	12. Unfold

Of course, someone would need him during his vacation of sorts. In a way, it was nice that they hooded him. He just hadn't expected the male version of the woman who was filling his thoughts to show up at the door. He stumbled backwards in surprise, and the young man glared.

"Yes? Its Carver, isn't it? Do you have need of me?" His tone was sharper even than what he usually used with his men, knowing that Carver had caused her pain. If Carver was the only one left, did he know of his mother's death? Did he know how it had hurt her? Did he care at all?

Carver Hawke nodded. "Well, its Meredith and Orsino who need you, See. I'm afraid an argument has broken out."

Cullen sighed, putting his face into his hands. What was that, the eighth or ninth time this month? It wouldn't end. "Give me three minutes. Wait here." 

The Hawke boy managed to keep up with his quick pace, although Cullen only topped him by about an inch. He knew as well as anyone that the Templar armor was heavy. "Have you had word from home lately?"

He snorted in reply. "None of my sister or her people talk to me anymore, and mother's too ashamed to write, so no. I haven't had news from home in a very long time." 

Poor boy. He didn't even know what had befallen his own mother. But for a moment he thought he understood why no one had told him. A Templar finding out that his family had been...murdered, and then a bit more by a blood mage? Could that not end up very badly? 

He had only pushed Solona away, but he was powerless and surely had he not been he would have attempted to harm her. While the thought was one that had crossed his mind often during the years, it was still a frightening one.

If Quentin had just been in the Circle, none of this would have happened, right? All mages should be kept contained, away from others. They were unpredictable, volatile, with more power than anyone should be able to grasp.

But... Hawke, with her glimmering blue eyes, and sweet smile...Hawke who had stood up to her friends for him...Hawke who he had kissed, and then rejected... She was a mage.

Maker, was he wrong? He couldn't be wrong, not about that, that would be foolish to think. But what if...

It didn't matter. His passing doubts did not matter. The Circle, the Templars, it was just the way things were. It was how they needed to be. He would try to but her from his mind. For now.

They, Meredith and Orsino were shouting again, at each other. "You cannot do this!" Orsini yelled. "There is no reason for you to take this away from them."

"They continue to disobey! Disobedience cannot be rewarded. If you have a better suggestion, then speak up."

This was not good. Whatever it was now, it would end badly. He dismissed Carver. It was not his place to tell. Perhaps Hawke would, when she was ready. "What is this about?"

Orsino looked up from his glowering first. "Cullen. I suspect you have had a good rest?" It was only slightly patronizing.

Then Meredith. "Ah good. Someone who can talk some sense into this elf."

"That sounds a bit like a threat," said elf snarled. "Although, coming from you, should I really be surprised?"

It was looking more and more like his short break was over.


	13. And For Your Gain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't say that I'm super happy with how this chapter is but if I look at it anymore I might go crazy. So here, have it.

"As if throwing around matters of my political ventures want enough, they have now interfered with matters of my personal life!" 

Hawke wondered if Dunmar knew he was pacing. "It is my son, Saemus. He would convert to the Qun, and has already left for the Qunari compound." Why would he do such a thing Hawke had saved him? He wasn't that big of an idiot, was he? Apparently so. "Please, Serrah Hawke," finally he truly faced her. If he was going to beg, then she supposed shed let him beg. "Convince him that it is not a life worth living.

Would the Qunari even take Saemus? The Arishok had seemed to hate Kirkwall. Then again, the Viscount's son was likely a good prize. Had it been her kid, she might've let him go on his way. He was an adult, technically. However she was not his mother (thank the Maker for that) and the Viscount had asked her to, and as with these things, it would probably end up being a lucrative situation for all.

But the Qunari... " But if he refuses, it could start something bad. Something I don't necessarily want to deal with." 

Dunmar shook his head. "You won't have to, he'll listen to you. He's reasonable, and he trusts you."

Then she would help. With a small curtsey that was mostly habit, not respect, she exited. "Well," huffed Anders. "I doubt I'd say anyone who's run off to the Qunari compound is reasonable, but that might be just me."

He wasn't wrong, at least not in her eyes. "We may need backup for this," she replied evenly. "I do know how the Qunari are going to take this, and I don't know how Saemus is going to take this. Let's grab Fenris and Varric."

The other mage groaned when she suggested Fenris, but if anyone was around, they wouldn't be able to use magic. That was another thing she hated about dealing with the Arishok. No magic, and she was about as good as if she were fighting with a stick. At least she knew Anders had a bit of training while in the wardens. Mostly, she would try to stay out of the way.

Detouring the docks, they found Varric still at the Hanged Man, happy to come along. Then they venture back to Hightown, to Fenris' mansion, where already she found him drinking the morning away. She had been the only one to go in. "The Templar's not with you. Have you finally gained a self preservation instinct or is that simply a trick of the light?"

"Trust me. If I haven't got one by now, I won't." Even joking about it felt...wrong, somehow. He had another day, didn't he? Maybe she'd see Cullen again. And if she didn't, she'd find him, ask for another game of chess or just to talk. "Are you up to liberating the Viscounts son from the Qun? I'm afraid we'll end up needing backup."

She'd almost mistaken his grimace for a smile. "Sure." But he's Fenris, and oven drunk he doesn't smile. "But first, do I get to ask why you brought a Templar to a table with three mages sitting at it last night? Don't get me wrong, I don't disagree. At least not with the others being sent away. I'd miss you, I think."

She wants to snap at him for that, but its Fenris, and that will get her nowhere. She knows all about saying things you didn't mean while buzzed, and so for once she let it go. In a way she doesn't blame him, but in another she does. She just doesn't want to push anyone else away right now.

Stabbing things is so much easier than feelings, Hawke thinks.

That thought is probably why they're ambushed at the docks by what appear to be a mercenary company. They dispatched them quickly and as quietly as can be. Without a word Hawke led the company to the compound.

"Well," said Anders lightly as the gates open. "I hope the Arishok hasn't grown too attached to the Viscounts boy."

The Arishok is sitting, regally, she'd say-as he always is. "Serrah Hawke. You have returned."

"Yes. I am here about the Viscounts son, Saemus."

He considered this for a moment, before beginning to anger. That was something, at least. "Four years here and I have made no threats to Kirkwall, and yet fanatics have lined up to hate us, simply because we are here, we exist." Her head still hurt, and she was in no mood to seal with a monologue. She simply wanted to see Saemus. "But despite still circulating lies, and fear, I am still time and time again begged by your people to let them come into the Qun. They hunger for purpose."

She had not lined up to hate them. She was doing jobs, and that was all. Why was she on the receiving end if this? The Arishok went on. "The Son has made a choice. You will not deny him that."

"Ah, and so the political gain for you is simply...a side benefit, I suppose."

"He is no longer the Viscounts son. Therefore I am gaining nothing in the way that you speak." Like hell, he wasn't. She didn't even bother to reply to that bit, which might've been good, since he kept going. "The Qun may demand that advantage but I do not. It was his choice to come here, to be educated. He so not my prisoner. He is not even here."

Wasn't even here. That didn't sound right. "He went to his father." Not half of an hour ago she had spoken to his father. "Ask the Viscount why he would send you here, and a letter both."

"That was a waste of ten minutes of my time," spoke up Varric bluntly from the back. Anders snorted, then went silent when he caught a few of the Qunari giving him glares. 

"They're meeting at the Chantry. Another pointless appeal from his father, I would suppose."

Even Anders knew something was up by then. Aside from Merrill, he was usually the last to know. "The Viscount would involve the Chantry."

No, no that didn't make any sense. But who else would see this as an issue, or try to use it for personal gain? Marian sighed. "No, but I assure you that Mother Petrice would."

There was an almost unheard unanimous grown from her companions. The Arishok raised a brow but did not comment on this. "A suspect in many things. If she has threatened someone under my rule again, there is only one acceptable response."

Hopefully that meant she'd be able to run the woman through. "Believe me, if it were up to me, I would've responded a very long time ago."

Still he looked at hr with uncertainty and mistrust. "I will be watching. Hawke. The demand of the Qun is clear."

"And for once, I am happy to obey," she chimed in. Time to see this ended.


	14. Interlude: Carver Hawke

When the argument was settled, (or at the least, relocated) he turned his attentions to Carver Hawke 

Cullen did not want to be the one to tell him what had happened. But the younger Hawke had asked, if he knew anything. If only he hadn't asked. Then he would have never known that Cullen knew anything at all.

"I...do not have good news for you. Perhaps your sister should be the one to tell you."

He frowned. "If she wanted to tell me anything, I'd bet that I would've already heard about it by now. What exactly do you mean, you don't have any good news for me. I'm not bailing my sister out of jail again."

That sounded like there was a story behind it. He would have to ask her, someday. "It is about your mother." Carvers eyes widened greatly. They were the same color as Hawkes, a bright blue.

"What has happened, is she hurt?"

He truly cared about his family. He wished Hawke could see that. He wished that she could be the one to tell him. But the boy had an obvious right to know. "I-I'm sorry. I wasn't t-there, but she was taken, by a blood mage. She died a couple of weeks ago."

Carvers face fell flat, to one with no hint of expression whatsoever, and so did his voice. "And my sister didn't think to tell me? Thank you, Knight-Commander, for informing me of this."

There had to be something more he could do, but Cullen hasn't even gone into the worse bits he'd been told. "You still have your sister, t-that's s-something, isn't it?"

Perhaps for Carver, it wasn't.


	15. Just Like This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To date the only fic I've written thats become this long is a Vulpes x Courier fix (fallout) so thanks for sticking with this mess with me. Maybe it will be longer, maybe school will become overwhelming instead of underwhelming and I never will. In any case...

Thank goodness Cullen had been home when she had knocked. Thank goodness a chair was nearby. She was sore, bruised and a bit cut up, but happy.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Simply a normal day in the life of Serrah Hawke, or...?"

Did he just make a joke? She didn't know he'd had that in him. "No, because a normal day I would've been able to use my staff for more than just hitting people in the face."

Cullen Rutherford snorted, and it might have been the most adorable thing she had ever seen. His mose scrunched up and he finished the whole, dorky thing off with a grin. "You didn't...did you?"

"Are you really doubting it?" She countered. "Because if you don't believe me now, you might have trouble believing that it was a Chantry mother."

Somehow, he didn't look like he doubted it. "I have got to hear this one, don't I?"

Despite her exhaustion, she laughed. "Yes. You ought to. But first, how was your last day off?" His expression instantly soured. "That bad"

The Templar bowed his head. "I ran into Carver today." Why was it such a surprise to her? He had probably told him about their mother. That was...well, she should have told him weeks ago. If he hadn't, then at least she needed to now. She missed his company. 

"Did you...tell him?" 

"Yes," Cullen announced in a low tone. Are you...Are you upset? "

She couldn't be. He was unimaginably hard to be mad at now that she had not gotten to know him. "No. I should have told him myself but," she swallows thickly. "Im not sure that I could have. Thank you. He took it...hard I'd assume."

He nodded, and sat down beside her, placing his arm gingerly over her. "He still cares whether you know it or not."

Marian grimaced. If he had cared, he wouldn't have ran off to become a Templar while she was gone. It was a stupid thing to do in the first place, and then he had made it worse by arguing. For once she had just wanted to get along, not to fight. "Its...that's a hard thing to believe. But I guess that we've both made bad desisions, and its probably best to forgive and forget. He's the only one left."

"I know," said Cullen quietly. "If you need me, I'm still here."

He had gotten sheepish again, and she looked at him. "I won't ever stop need in you," she said truthfully. He was here now, wasn't he? He didn't plan to go away just because their views didn't align and they had very different goals, did he? She didn't want him to go. The arm around he shoulder was just as heavy and tired as she felt. They could stay here, like this, fall asleep, perhaps...

"You were going to tell me your story, weren't you?"

She offered a weary laugh. "Of course." The first part was easy enough to tell, with the Viscount and the Arishok. But the next bit was harder. "Did you er hear of Mother Petrice, from the Chantry!"

"Only what my men and Aveline have told me, so...not much."

So she had to tell him about their past dealings. "She is nothing if not plotting. As soon as we got to the Chantry steps I was expecting something to jump down on us. In fact, I was beginning to think I was wrong, until-" Yawn. "Until I saw Saemus, kneeling. Anders had signaled to me, that it didn't look good, because he was too still, like he wasn't breathing. And the entre room was empty, no Viscount, no Templars, no Mother Petrice in sight. I approached Saemus and...well, I had thought he wasn't breathing, and I was a little too right in that aspect."

"So he was already dead, who killed him?"

"Petrice." Hawke answered flatly. "Or one of her cronies. It doesn't really matter now, does it?"

"Of course it does. You've got to know who to convince, who to fault," he replied calmly. "Are you tired?"

His answer was another yawn. "Yes. And sore. Anders healed most of the cuts-" Cullen had looked horrified at that, as if he didn't already know that she got chopped to bits on a regular basis. "But I want to finish this story first. Saemus fell over and that was when Mother Petrice stepped out of the shadows, tailed by her men, convicting me of murder."

At his look, she frowned. "Don't look at me like that. Of course it wasn't me, the woman was crazy."

"Was?!"

"That wasn't me either, alright! Just trust me. Anyways, I had been ready to let her go when Elthina broke the fight up. Petrice was still trying to convince her that Saemus had committed a sin worthy of death by wanting to join the Qun. The Arishok shot her in the head-well, not personally but you get the idea."

His eyebrows had long since shot into his curly hairline. She wondered just how clueless he was about the city that he lived in. "And Elthina?"

"Walked back up the stairs like she hadn't seen a thing." That was the bit that Marian didn't totally understand. "Perhaps glad to be rid of Petrics herself? Not wanting to start an argument with the Qunari? I don't know. Walk me back up to Hightown?"

With that, Cullen's voice turned to a deliciously low tone. "Your not going back tonight."

It did not register in her brain correctly for a good few minutes. "What?" He laughed.

"I only meant that it is not good for you to be so alone there."

She almost meant to argue and say that for now, Orana and Bodhan and Sandal were enough. She held her tongue though, at least about this matter. "Pardon? What do you propose, then?"

He smiled gently at her, as he crushed her heart. "We stay here and fall asleep here, like this."

It did not hurt as much as she'd thought it would. "I like that idea very much, actually." It was good he had mentioned it, as she didn't believe that she'd be able to move.

After a while, when the candles were extinguished with the wave of her hand, making Cullen jump, they settled in to that spot, his arm around her shoulder and her head leaning on to his chest.

"Goodnight, Hawke."

"Marian," she corrected sleepily. "Call me Marian, Cullen."

He would be the only one who did so, now, but somehow, she loved that.

Cullen grinned. "Goodnight then, Marian."


	16. Tossing and Turning

He did not know where last nights courage had come from. If he did know, surely he would have called on it when they both awoke that morning, stretched out on his settee in a completely different way than they had fallen asleep.

In a way, he supposed that it made sense, if they both frequently tossed and turned.

That was something he had only come to appreciate about her the moment that he had woken up. If she were anyone else, (and thank the Maker that she wasn't) he would worry about his movement and nightmares. But she had already known, and she had already assisted him with them.

Her head rested on his chest, and her arms wrapped around him. She was so warm. Was that because she was a mage, or was that uniquely Marian? 

Marian. He hadn't even thought about it before, really but she had such a lovely name. She woke up only a moment later. "Mmm," she mumbled, her eyes still half lidded. "Its still dark, go back to sleep." These days he hardly noticed when it it was dark.

"I-I can't. I'm expected at the Gallows soon."

That certainly wasn't a lie, although her skeptical look didn't make it feel as though she believed him. "I didn't do anything did I?"

Yes, she did. She had made it so much harder for him to get up, and to go face Meredith for another day, when all he wanted was to stay here, with her wrapped around him. Nothing could be so divine. "M-Maker, no. I...I don't believe I've slept so well in years." That was also truth. He had only heard the faint whisperings of the fade, and not a demon had come within his sight. He only hoped that she had sleep just as well. "B-But I'll be e-expected soon, and well..."

Marian didn't reply, only reached up to run her hand through his hair. She sat like this until it all became too much for him to bear. This weighed heavily on his heart, as he had decided that she was something he could not have-it was for the best-and yet here she was. He rolled so that she was now laying on the settee and not him, and he smiled, resisting his urge to kiss her. "I'm sorry."

She looked him straight in the eye. "You should be."

Well, he hadn't been expecting that. "What? P-pardon?"

Was it simply his imagination or did she look...hurt? "I can't keep doing this. We have to talk about this. Please!" Did she mean their...friendship, relationship, whatever it was or wasn't? He would tell her, then, painfully that it was not good for either of them. No, it was not because she was a mage. She was not like Solona. Not trapped- Trapped? The word surprised him.- by the Circle and not because of her powers. She had been hurt by mages, by blood magic as well.

He had only been about to open his mouth and agree that they did need to talk about it, because Maker, was he having a very hard time keeping his thoughts off of exactly what he would like to do to her right now. (Which was probably more harmless than she would suppose from such an implication. The rest would come...later.)

But a knock interrupted them. He rushed to the door. Marian didn't bother to move or sit up. Which likely, was a bad call, being that it was not just a soilder come to inform him of something. No, it was Aveline, of all people. And with the look on her face, he would have guessed she'd seen Hawke. 

"Uhm...well. Shit. I didn't really believe Varric when he said you'd be here, Hawke. I need your help."

At his other side, Marian sat up. "Anything."


	17. Demands of Kirkwall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is late and a hot mess I'm sorry!

So that was it, then. The Arishok was literally dead at her feet, and Meredith and Orsino had just shown up. If she wasn't straight up dead, then perhaps she'd spend the rest of her days organizing papers for one of the Templars. Perhaps if she was allowed a final plea, she could ask for it to be Cullen. At least he would be kind to her.

"Is it...over?"

Hawke nodded once in response to Meredith's question. Soon, nobles cheered at the sidelines. Isabela gave her a nod. Everything hurt, and her mana pool had run dry long before the Qunari had fallen, but she had pushed, and pushed and now her head spun.

As the crowd fell silent, Meredith sheathed her sword. What? Why was she doing that? Surely Meredith had at least seen her fire the last few shots, bolts of lightning. She stepped foreword. Marian was in no position to think about any of this, or why it was happening. "Well then. It appears Kirkwall has a new Champion."

Surely of all things she did not mean her. She had no current desire to be the Champion of anything, except maybe a hot bath and a lyrium potion to make the world stop writhing beneath her feet. As the crowd cheered again, Meredith stepped away, Orsino and her Templars following, as well as most of the crowd. 

Everything went fuzzy for a moment, and hurriedly someone caught her. "She isn't doing well," said Fenris' disembodied voice. She could practically hear his scowl. "Do something, Mage!"

"We need to get her home, into bed. Then I'll do what I can," responded Anders, evenly. 

After that she didn't hear a thing.

The next time Marian Hawke, new Champion of Kirkwall and (possibly?) Not a tranquil opened her eyes, she was in her bedroom. Her eyelids were still heavy and clearly she wouldn't be casting even a simple spell an time soon, but she wasn't nearly as injured as she thought she'd be. Likely, that was Anders' doings. She would have to thank him, later.

Or perhaps he was still here. She crept downstairs, clinging to the rail like a lifeline. She fell, an ways and was caught in strong, familiar arms.

"Perhaps we should do something about these stairs," Isabela cooed thoughtfully, getting her back on her feet. "Anders is going to kill you for moving even an inch, but most everyone's downstairs and waiting. Including-of course-lover boy." Was she referring to Cullen? "Definitely chose right with him, mmm. Those thighs, Maker!"

Hawke swore. "Bela!"

"Sorry, darling. You know I'm still just in it to break Broody and Choir Boy. I won't touch...oh, what was Varric calling him? Curly! That was it. I won't touch him-unless either of you want me too."

Normally she wouldn't be too bothered by Isabela's teasing, but her veins burned from not feeling the fade coursing through them, and her head still felt heavy. "How late is it?"

She thought for a moment. "Close to nine, maybe? You've been out for around eleven hours."

"And you didn't think to tell me that right off...why?" She regained her own balance and started off into the parlour. "Why were you all waiting?"

"Well, we wanted to be there when you woke up, party for the Champion and all that shit. Anders said you'd be fine, just needed a rest. Aveline went home already, too late for her or something, Fenris left, drunk off his ass, Sebby, because he's no fun at all, and I took Kitten home, she was tipsy and sleepy. Everyone's been drinking since we got here, actually. I'm probably the least drunk only cause I've got the highest tolerance."

She didn't even have enough alcohol in the house to get Merrill tipsy, so they must've bought some, or got some from Fenris.

"Even Cullen's drunk as hell, believe it or not. I think that he was genuinely worried about you, y'know."

She wanted to ask if that's really the case or not, but she knows the reaction Isabela would give her and so she waits to see for herself. "Thanks, for coming back, Isabela," is what she decided to say finally. She hadn't been certain that she had been coming back anyways. Its good, that she hasn't lost or driven away anyone else.

"It'd good to be back," the pirate grins devilishly in return. "Thanks for saving my life. I...I don't know what I did to earn that, I'll admit, but thanks."

Hawke smiles and nods in return. 

In the parlor, Varric's sitting in what has, over the years come to be known as his spot. A big chair in the corner, with a table by it, currently with a small bottle of ink sitting on it. Isabela plops herself onto Anders' lap, of all places and he grins, until he catches an eyeful of Hawke. "You're supposed to be resting."

Marian shakes her head. "I feel fine. Thank you all, for staying, and Anders for healing me."

Varric looked at her. "You sure, Hawke? You fought a Qunari probably three times your size and just had your biggest secret blown to all of Kirkwall."

"Gee, Varric," she replied in a tone dripping with as much sarcasam as she could muster. "Thanks for reminding me about the great fucking day I've had."

Well, it had mostly been bad, but really she had sleep better last night than she had since her father died, and she had woken up in a quite possibly perfect way, with Cullen beside her. 

Shit, they still needed to talk. 

His cheeks were flushed slightly, and his curly hair was about as messy as it has been when he'd woken up that morning. "Maker," it sounded a bit more like, "Mahker," but she got the point. "Your alright!"

When he tried to get up, he began to fall, and she overestimated her strength, falling on top of him. She swore loudly, and Isabela giggled. Perhaps she wouldn't be giggling so much if she were here, with her legs between his, hands falling on either side of his head. And fuck, he was grinning at her like he-Cullen fucking Rutherford of all people- was thinking of something extremely naughty. And she had thought he didn't like her as any more than a friend.

"Come on, Anders. I'm sure Hawke and Cullen have some sort of private, post-almost death reunion to get to. Glad you're alive, Hawke. Talk to you tomorrow."

"Get rest!" Anders chastised, waggling a finger. For a moment Justice seemed to flare and he sobered. "This was an awful idea."

Varric looked at them, still put like that on the floor. She wasn't even sure why she hadn't attempted to move yet. The wine on his breath smelled sort of good, and he was warm, and he was...Cullen, she supposed. He'd come to see her. He had been worried about her. "Uhm, well. I'm going to go." Gee, thanks Varric for helping a friend.

"So... Can we talk about something?" Cullen asked from beneath her.


	18. I am Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> funny story, the chapter title autocorrected to 'I am Moist' and maybe that's only funny because I'm writing this at one in the morning but I giggled for way too long. Anywho the POV changes sometimes during the chapter but I'll do my best to make it clear. Settle down, kids cause this is a long chapter.

Hawke still wasn't sure what to say. She'd already told him to stay here, because he'd probably end up falling off the docks on the way back to the Gallows. Cullen had been rather quiet since they had fallen on top of each other, and she almost hoped that he remembered that in the morning. 

"Alright," she decided finally. "We're not going to talk until you can actually think about what you're saying."

Really, Marian didn't want to keep putting it off. Why was he so hesitant to just...be with her. What was it that Isabela had said? He was worried and so he had stayed over, drinking with the rest of them? 

But, there was really no point I doing it now, was there? She left him on the settee, asleep, and went back upstairs to at least lay down, collect her thoughts. It hadn't been more than half an hour since she'd last slept.

 

 

She had heard thrashing in the night. As soon as she'd recognized it, Orana had quietly come into her room. "Mis- I-I mean Marian! Ser Rutherford is...is not..." The last thing she needed was Orana to start crying. "I do n-not know what to do."

"Hush, Orana. We will go down together, alright?"

They did, to find exactly what she had hoped not to be. She rushed to Cullen's side, and put a hand on his shoulder, attempting to shake him awake. "Cullen," she pleaded. "Its just a nightmare. Wake up, alright?"

She was remarkably calm, for the way her heart was pounding in her chest. What if, this time a demon got him? He was all she had left! If he was gone, she would have to face Meredith alone and...

No. He would be fine, truly. He just needed to be woke up. "Cullen," she said again. "They can't hurt you anymore, do you hear me? You are in Kirkwall, in the Amell Estate. Do you remember?"

It only took another tap on his shoulder to wake him up fully. He shot up, violently, and buried his head between his legs. "M-Maker..." He moaned.

She took a hold of one of his shaking hands, and held it tight. "Are you alright?"

Cullen nodded. "Fine. I-I think." She didn't believe him. He swallowed hard, like it was a painful thing. "I didn't...h-hurt you, did I?" 

Marian shook her head. Of course he hadn't. Was it a frequent occurrence, or was he just being worrisome again? "No, I'm fine. As long as you're okay..."

Suddenly he seemed to become acutely aware of his prediciment. "Did I fall asleep here? Maker, I-I just realized, you're alright!"

"Fine," she replied happily. "Its been a long day for everybody I think."

He smiled at her, a little sadly. "I'm sorry, I heard from Meredith that she...knows what you are. But...the Champion of Kirkwall? Even I know that's a big deal."

So was her understanding of it. Kirkwall had not had a Champion since...well, she didn't know, but it was a large thing all the same. The only person-now that the Viscount was gone, anyways- more important than her was Meredith. Orsino was close behind, as was Cullen, but it scarcely mattered. "I...suppose that it is. Could we talk now? Orana, you of course may go back to sleep now, it is all fine."

"Yes," Orana bowed shortly. "T-thank you. Goodnight, M-Marian. Goodnight, S-Ser Rutherford."

Long after she left, Cullen looked hopelessly at her. "This i-isn't a good idea. You know that."

She didn't laugh, as much as she found that she could've. "I did say that I don't care, though. Why are you so against this?" 

"I don't want to end up hurting you."

He didn't want to end up hurting her? Was this what was his hesitance was about? Shit, she'd been hurt enough. It didn't matter anymore, at least to her. If Anyone should be worried about being hurt, was him. Everyone she loved seemed to die, horribly.

Perhaps this wasn't the best time to bring that up. He had probably noticed, over the years. "Cullen, you're not going to hurt me. Even if you dragged me to the Gallows, and put the tranquil brand on me yourself, I couldn't be mad."

Slowly his sullen gaze shifted to a bright grin. "I-I would just as s-soon put my own sword to my throat. Marian, I love you. I-I think. I've never felt this before. I-I c-care for you a great d-deal, at the very least."

She told him slowly that she loved him too. The worries didn't matter so much anymore. It was so utterly foolish, but anything that followed would be easier with him by her side. Cullen took her hands. "C-can we take this a little bit...slow, though? With e-everything going on, and I-I've never...."

Marian smiled. "I think that probably a very good idea." And..well, right now they did not exactly stand on the same page when it came to the circles. That was alright, and she told him so. "I cannot change what you have grown up to believe," unfortunately. "But perhaps we can at least come to an understanding."

He nodded. "And I'm c-certain that there is m-more for us to d-discuss, but I'm still t-tired, would you..." He scooted over it. Hawke smiled, and went towards the stairs. 

"I've got a better idea. Far more comfortable." 

She didn't even try to stop his stuttering about his he had wanted to take this slowly. He quieted a bit when he saw her bed. "I h-had almost f-forgotten you're a n-noble," he chuckled. "I bet t-there's not even a mite in there."

Hawke hummed thoughtfully and lifted up a blanket. "Well, it's been quite a while since I checked, so no guarantees, but probably not. The dog might've let a couple in." The Mabari in question made a low groaning sound from the foot of the bed, seemingly in protest. "Oh, quiet you." She responded. "You're not helping my case."

Cullen laughed- a sound that she still greatly appreciated, maybe even more so now. He sat down, then got over his shyness and laid down fully, putting his hands behind his head. "Maker, it's almost too soft!" She chucked, and hesitantly put her head on his chest. He made a stuttering noise, and from that she had assumed he was uncomfortable, but he looked at her and practically whined. "Oh, don't move. P-please, of course. A-Andraste, I'm bad a-at this, aren't I?"

"No worse than I am," she assured. "Now. Rest."

"R-right."

 

 

"Ohh!" Merrill squeaked excitedly. "News? What sort of news? The good kind, I'd hope."

It was, in fact the good kind. It was probably for the best that Cullen wasn't here, because he had grown especially nervous about the whole thing when his hangover had finally subsided. "Yes, don't worry."

"Well," through Isabela's tone of voice suggested she knew very well what Hawke was going to say, although she hadn't even offered a hint yet. "Are you going to tell us, or will it stay a secret?"

Everyone was staring at her, expectantly. She suddenly needed to find somewre else to place her attentions, or perhaps light something on fire. "C'mon, Hawke," Varric coaxed. "What'd you want to tell us?"

Roughly she swallowed. "Cullen and I decided to be together." Her voice hadn't broken like that since...well, long before the darkspawn had even thought of the fifth blight, that's for dammed sure.

Was Isabela...chuckling? "Well, Varric owes me quite a bit. I told you it wouldn't take long for someone to cave."

Varric muttered something about how he'd put it on the tab, before congratulating her. "I really do hope you and Curly are happy. I hope you have a lot of little curly haired, blue eyed babies. Name one after me, okay?"

She laughed at that. 

Once Merrill had realized what Hawke had meant, went up and hugged her. "Oh, really? That's lovely! He seems so nice and...and..if he hurts you," she said, suddenly serious. "I'll..well, I'll..." She made a small stabbing motion. "You get the idea. Is he as happy as you?"

Hawke nodded. "I think so. I hope so."

Sebastian also seemed genuinely happy for her, saying that Cullen was a good man. Aveline was a bit hesitant to accept it, at first. She soon decided that the decision was a fine one, even for all of their disagreements. Anders bowed his head. "I hope you know what you're doing, Hawke. I'll deal with him," he sighed slightly. "I trust him if you to."

Fenris nodded at her. "He does seem to care for you. Maybe he won't lock you up. If you're sure..."

She had never been more sure about anything. And they were all with her. That was good.

 

 

"I never got the chance to thank you," Isabela coos. For saving my life."

She shrugged, and picked up her cards. "All in a day's work, I suppose."

It really was nothing. While she couldn't for certain say that the Pirate Captain would've done the same for her, they were still friends, and good ones at that. "If that's a days work, I don't want to see your bad days," she laughed wholeheartedly. "Really, though, Hawke. What can I do for you? Steal something, drug someone, manage your accounts..."

"Varrics already doing the last one for me. Really though, Isabela there's nothing to thank me for. We're friends, aren't we?"

"Well, yes but-"

"Then that's enough," Marian replied, done with the subject.

 

 

Carver didn't turn around when she called his name. She had decided that Cullen was right. It was past time to forgive him to whatever he had done to make her upset at all. Would he forgive her, though? It was beginning to seem like no.

She hadn't even noticed Cullen, marching a group of Templars right past her, through the snow. He kept them walking, before rushing to her, and pressing a nervous kiss to the edge of her nose. She shivered with delight. "Good morning to you, too."

He smiled, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. I feel like I haven't seen you in forever, even if its only been a couple days. How was the wounded coast?"

"Cold," she'd muttered, although Kirkwall had not been much warmer, thus far. "I missed you too. Do you think you could help with something? Its been almost six months since mother died and I..."

He must have caught her looking at Carver. "Want to make amends?"

Hawke had sighed. "Yes. I've been calling the tit for ages, but he's been ignoring me, I think."

Cullen's eyes had lit up. "I'm glad you've decided to do this," he said. "I'll get him over here." 

Carver seemed to have no choice when it came yo obeying Cullen. Well, she supposed, of course. He's second only to Orsino. He'd have to listen. He had been led over to where Marian stood, followed by Cullen. 

Suddenly, all the fears she had had about this flooded back in, and her mothers loss hit her just a hard as it has the first time. "Carver," she swallowed, trying hard to hold back tears. "I am..so, so sorry." And then Carver had hugged her, and she hadn't been able to hold back the tears anymore. She was repeating it again and again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I should have told you. You should have been there, I'm sorry."

 

 

"I just...don't know," he had whispered into the dark. It had all been so black and white and suddenly it was turning all shades of grey. Something g was wrong. Something with Meredith. It had nearly been a year and still there was no Viscount. He wanted yo believe that it was because of the prolonged cleanup from the Qunari or maybe it was because of the mage problem but none of that made sense.

Hawke, laying on her side facing to him frowned slightly and replied tiredly. "I'm too tired for that now anyways," she had a habit of talking in the strangest way when she was half asleep. "We can work more in the morning."

Being the champion, always caught in the middle of Meredith and Orsino's arguments, forced to choose a side had taken a great toll on her. She didn't sleep much, now. "Mmm," he'd hummed back in agreement. "Alright, love. Goodnight."

"Night."

Who was in the wrong here? What was wrong with Meredith?


	19. Best Served Colf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, this chapter was the absolute worst to write and it took me forever. So here, have 2 chapters.

Hawke wrapped her cloak tighter around her, and continued to ascend the steps. Hopefully wherever Orsino wanted to meet would be warmer then out here.

She had come, alone as soon as word had been sent to her, despite her hesitance to actually get out of bed. Cullen had spent the night at the estate, something he didn't do much, being that Meredith was keeping as tight a leash on him as she was the mages.

When she reached him, Orsino dipped into a deep bow. "Thank you for coming, Champion on such short notice. Not many will associate with me now that I am the focus of Meredith's ire. Which, is leaving me in a difficult position. She is not entirely wrong."

Hmm. That had to have hurt to admit. Perhaps, then it was more of a problem than she knew. "I know some of my people are using dangerous means to oppose her, but I cannot seek the Templar's aid without making all mages here their target."

Again, understandable. In her time as champion she had begun to understand how delicate all of this was. Still, Meredith couldn't continue fighting them, or more and more mages would succumb to using "dangerous means". " I've hears rumors if the rouge mages meeting here tonight, in Hightown, and I had thought that perhaps...well, I would handle the issue myself, but I cannot leave the tower without permission, and Meredith would use leaving to 'prove' my involvement. I do not know that its even blood magic."

Another job for her, it seemed. "I can get in on it easy enough," she replied. "If its blood magic, then you'll soon know. If not, then fine. What if Meredith happens to catch wind of all of this? What would you suggest?"

She knew what she would do, if I were her business, and that was get the hell out of the Knight-Commander's way, unless the mages really were innocent. 

Pain flashed in his eye, and he looked away quickly. "Pray, Champion, to the Maker that she doesn't. She is looking for any reason to send for the Right of Annulment."

A tower of people, culled because Meredith wanted it so. She shivered again, and not from the cold. 

 

 

It was barely dark when she set off again, with Varric, Isabela and Fenris alongside her. Hightown, despite being the 'nice' part of Kirkwall, was still not a place you wanted to travel alone at night. Besides, she didn't know what was awaiting her.

In the shadows was a group of figures, huddled together. Some wore robes, and others? Templar armor. This got stranger and stranger. They seemed to be whispering each other, and Hawke approached them openly. "Someone's coming," one figure hissed. "The Champion!" Another called.

"We know you're working with Meredith!" Cried a Templar. She wondered where they had gotten that information. She was certain she had made her disdain for the woman far clearer than it should have been in the last few months. The Templar turned to the first man who had spoken. "Run. We'll handle this."

Before they had drawn their weapons, Varric had fired a shot at a mage, and Isabela and Fenris were already rushing forward. She pulled on the fade, and basked for a moment in the familiar hum before channelling some of it at the Templar. Lightning struck the man's chestplate, likely frying him inside it.

A loud screech came from a mage, who had gotten Isabela's knives buried in his chest. A bolt from Bianca struck someone else in the face, and the whole thing was ended with the glow of lyrium and the sound of a throat being torn out of a Templar's. "Careful," warned Fenris. I doubt that's all there is."

Marian nodded silently. Isabela moved over to her. Holding a scrap of paper between her fingers. "Found this. We're headed for the docks it seems." 

"Come on then, no time to waste."

 

 

But was it blood magic, or something else? There had been no evidence of blood magic, but all of this just seemed wrong. 

An indistinguishable figure in Templar armor and the mage who has ran before were near one of the walks. As Hawke and her group approached, the mage yelled. "I told you! I told you she was after us! But you couldn't just leave, or warn-"

A familiar face turned, eyes wide with horror. Keran? Hadn't she helped him to remain in the order? And now he was involved in this?! "No! I cannot do this. I will not hurt her." He fled, perhaps just around a corner or far, far away. It didn't matter to her.

Varric signaled her silently. They were being surrounded. Fenris' markings began to pulse in a low light, and Isabela drew her blades. Her grip on her staff tightened and she breathed in slowly.

Once more, she pulled on the fade.


	20. What is Good

"You cannot truly believe that this is the right thing to do!" He pleaded. Meredith looked at him coldly, not flinching. "There are so many innocents, you cannot possibly-"

"Is this about the Champion?"

Was it? Yes, and no. Since he had began courting Hawke, he had began to see more and more of the faults. Had they always been there? Perhaps, but he was beginning to wonder if Meredith's change was at all a part if it. 

He hadn't gotten to see enough of her, lately. They had managed to eat dinner a few times together, and a couple days a week, he came to the Hanged Man after his shift and played cards. Several of that friends had even warmed up to him. 

Realizing that Meredith was still waiting for an answer, he shook his head. "This isn't about Hawke. There are plenty of mages in the Gallows that aren't maleificar, and that's what this is about."

His courage had worn thin by the end, and he prayed that she hadn't heard his voice crack just then. Whatever happened in Kirkwall, Meredith Stannard could not send for the Right of Annulment. It wasn't about Hawke-He almost had himself convinced, there.

"Of course it isn't," Meredith sounded less convinced. "Even you, Rutherford must see that I am trying to do what is best with the options that I have been given. If they keep pushing back, they mustvknow that disciplinary actions have to be taken."

Then perhaps she should stop pushing them so hard. He could not tell her this, or else she'd think he was conspiring against her. "O-Of course, K-Knight-Commander. I s-suppose you are correct."

Her cold eyes glared with disgust at him. "If your relationship with the Champion, an apostate continues, then you may expect disciplinary action as well, Cullen."

What? She wouldn't, would she? Makers breath, she had no right! Apostate or not, Hawke was the champion, and a damn fine woman. If he had to have her go into hiding, so be it. But the Right had not been sent for yet.

He was about to reply to the infuriating comment when Meredith found something other than him to sneer at. Samson, standing in the doorway. "Meredith."

"Samson," she replied coldly. Nothing else from her was offered. He looked cold. Cullen almost wanted to offer him a blanket, mostly to see what Meredith would do.

The sickly former-Templar gave a mocking bow in his direction. "And Cullen, of course. You've got yourself a mutiny on your hands, out there." A mutiny? What was he even talking about. Had the lack of lyrium finally gotten to his head? "Might want to get out there's and clean up the mess."

Meredith rolled her eyes. But what if he was telling the truth? What if all the rumors and whisperings around were more than just that? "Mm. I'm sure that we will. Would you handle it, Knight-Captain? I'm afraid that I've got to write a letter."

So that was it, then. She was sending for the Right. He had to tell Hawke. Fixing whatever Samson was talking about would give him time to slip away and find her, warn her.

Cullen tried not to think about what this would men for all of Kirkwall, and for Hawke and him. This wasn't right, but who would stop her?

 

 

She was huddled over Carver, who was rubbing his head as if it ached. He knew that look on her, the one that meant she was trying her best to hold in tears. He knew that she thought her tears made her weak. But she had done much, and she had the right to cry. She had laughed at him, when he had told her that. 

Furthermore, reinforcements were not needed here. Hawke, Varric, Fenris, And Isabela had taken care of the offending mages and Templars well enough, it seemed. Awkwardly, he choughed. "C-Champion. Samson h-had failed to inform m-me that you were involved."

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, and looked up at him. "Get your fucking men under control, Cullen."

Perhaps he had misjudged worry for rage. She wasn't truly upset at him, was she? He had not sent these men. How was Carver involved. How was she involved? "Take them all to the Gallows for questioning," he ordered the men behind him. "Now. You a-aren't hurt, Hawke?"

"No. Of course not. You can, of course tell Meredith what happened, although I somehow doubt that will help the situation. Though, if possible, I would like to speak with you alone, Knight-Captain."

He nodded and dismissed everyone else. As soon as they were alone, she fell into his arms, and began to sob. "I can't even keep Carver safe," she'd muttered into his chestplate. "They could have hurt him! What am I supposed to tell Meredith? Yes, I went behind your back with Orsino because he thought you'd send for the Right of annulment? Everything just keeps getting worse and worse and I...I can't fix it."

He hushed her softly and ran his hand through her dark hair. "Nobody expects you to fix it all, Marian. I'll try and handle Meredith, alright? I'm here, I'll help you."

He failed to mention that Meredith had sent for the Right until later that evening. She dropped her staff and just looked at him. "I...I don't..."

"I don't want to remain loyal to the flawed order any longer," he admitted. "But you have to understand, that once she's got approval, there's no stopping this."

"I can't just leave them!" Her bright blue eyes blazed with a barely contained fury. "I can't just leave all those people to die!"

He wanted to reassure her, somehow, but nothing came to mind.


End file.
